


Don't get caught

by LightningFB1



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm so sorry guys, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningFB1/pseuds/LightningFB1
Summary: Angela doesn't give a single fuck about having to deal with Ana later.





	Don't get caught

**Author's Note:**

> I'M A PILE OF TRASH DUDE. I'M SORRY.
> 
> Edit: I forgot to put this here: https://goo.gl/aGFB1V
> 
> Have a nice day! Also, taking prompts, feel free to message me. You can find my discord on the profile, always happy to chat!

Fareeha is elated to have her mother back. Really, she loves Ana deeply despite the ups and downs they’ve gone through. As a daughter, there are no words to explain how much she’s missed her all these years, how much she’s struggled to forgive what had to be forgiven, how much energy had been put into fixing what needed to be fixed. Even as a soldier and Overwatch agent, she’s delighted with the idea of being deployed alongside Ana Amari.

Everything about this experience should be positive… If only Ana could--

“Fareeha!”

It’s the third time in less than ten minutes. Umber eyes are shut tight; Fareeha’s chest heaving ever so slightly the moment self-control slips away. This should have been planned ahead, like it has always been, but Angela had just showed up. Wearing nothing but her lab coat, for once buttoned up. Well, that and white lace lingerie. The coat that had been discarded as soon as she’d stepped into her quarters. What was this woman thinking?!

“You better come out right now,” the threat is crystal clear in her mother’s voice and the irony of the chosen words doesn’t escape her attention. Fareeha peeks at the closed door from under the forearm she’s tossed over her own face–closed, not locked, her foggy mind supplies. Damn it. Angela’s fingernails bite gently into the skin of her hips and then she’s dragging them slowly up over the expanse of Fareeha’s quivering stomach.

It happens to be something Angela has taken a liking to, its direct consequence being a double session of push-ups on a daily basis that Fareeha _swears_ it’s only because she wants to stay at top shape.

“I swear, if you’re in there and ignoring me…”

It’s hard to keep her focus on Ana’s voice, but she hears the exasperated huff on the other side, followed by a mischievous giggle that’s muffled against her neck. Her mother is right outside and Fareeha hasn’t felt this torn in forever. The rational part of her mind tells her to go and do whatever her mother wants her to do, to finish quickly and get back to this. Her body doesn’t concur. Angela’s weight on her, the warmth of her thighs, those lips against the underside of her jaw… it’s intoxicating and her mind is spinning.

They have been seeing each other for months, stealing from what little time they have off to meet and… well, the results of such meetings have been enjoyable so far. Way too enjoyable. It would be terrible to have to wait for two long months to have Angela to herself, straddling her waist in nothing but that revealing underwear she’s chosen for today’s occasion.

“You can go to her later, she’ll understand.”

Angela’s voice is barely above a whisper. Fareeha bites back a whine that turns into a groan, because she knows, Ana _won’t_ understand unless they explain _everything_ there is to explain. Then again, Angela’s teeth are on the sensitive skin beneath her ear and her hand keeps making its way downwards. There’s also that cheeky smirk on Angela’s face. Fareeha sucks in a breath, darkened eyes attempting to track the path the pale hand is following until it’s out of sight.

“… unless, if you want to go take care of that…” Angela shrugs, the hand creeping down halts and Angela tilts her head to the side, drawing idle circles with her fingertips over the fabric of Fareeha’s shorts.  “I can take care of _this_ myself.” The look Angela gives Fareeha has all the blood previously flooding her face rushing down to nether regions and it makes her feel lightheaded.

“No.”

The word comes out without her conscious approval, but she doesn’t regret it. What she does regret is the pleading tone, because one of Angela’s eyebrows shoots up and the smirk is back and the expression on the usually calm and poised woman’s face is doing so many things to Fareeha.

“Are you with the Doctor, habibti?”

Fareeha’s forehead creases but any concerns she might have been harboring are gone a split of a second later as the heel of Angela’s hand press against her heated core, fingertips prodding lightly. There’s an amused sound as Angela nuzzles the point where her neck meets her shoulder, followed by the sweet intrusion of her fingers and that’s all Fareeha can think about right now. Her back arches into the warm body hovering above and Angela obliges, leaning into her. The movements are slow and calculated, absolutely maddening. Angela is kissing down her collarbone and she’s doing great at keeping it together so far all circumstances considered.

“You can’t seriously think I haven’t noticed you both go missing at the exact same time,” Ana was mumbling more to herself than anything, but Angela had casted a quick glance at the door. Fareeha is too busy savoring the contact of the bare skin against hers, the slightly rougher touch of lace against her sensitive nipples, the perfect pressure applied to just the right spot.

“Your mother is going to put my head on a spike,” Fareeha can feel Angela’s lips moving against the side of her breast and she looks down through half lidded eyes. It’s not helpful; the sight does nothing to placate the living inferno building up in her lower belly. Those same lips are now wrapped around a hardened peak, teeth scrapping and tongue flicking over it. She’s having the worst time trying to suppress her moans, but Angela seems to have the attention span to listen to her mother’s ramblings and work her magic at the same time.

“We are going to have a talk about this tonight,” Ana warns and Angela is amusedly staring at the closed door before letting her gaze drift back to her partner. Fareeha bites the inside of her cheek to keep the sounds at bay and she can swear she sees a pout, but it’s probably a mirage or her brain is malfunctioning because not a second later Angela is grinding down at the same slow, torturous pace against her like nothing can perturb her. “I want to see you before dinner.”

Fareeha tries, she tries her damn hardest, but that’s the moment Angela chooses to curl her fingers and press her lips against hers and the stifled groan echoes in the room. Fareeha breaks down right then and there. It probably didn’t sound as loud as it did in her ears. No. It didn’t, for sure. If she doesn’t convince herself of it, she won’t leave this four walls until they’re all back from deployment and she can hide for a couple years.

“That goes for you too, Doctor Ziegler.”

Angela… sweet, innocent Angela… sits back in all her semi-naked glory, brings the fingers to her lips and licks them with a soft hum. Fareeha stares entranced as her partner glances at the door with the most devilish smile she’s ever seen on her. “Of course, Ana. I’ll bring the wine!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry at all, to be honest.


End file.
